


From dying embers at the sparks of the beginning

by drakhus67820



Series: Steampunk Westeros [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, F/M, Jonerys Week, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 08:11:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16059068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drakhus67820/pseuds/drakhus67820
Summary: All relationship have a beginning, this is their beginning.One-Shot write for the JOnerys Appreciation Week- Reversal Role.





	From dying embers at the sparks of the beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [justwanderingneverlost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justwanderingneverlost/gifts), [LustOnMyFingers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LustOnMyFingers/gifts), [TheWolvenStorm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWolvenStorm/gifts).



> Has always, thank you to TheScarletGarden for translate this work, I can make nothing whitout you my dear friends!  
> The moodboard is the work of the wonderfull justwanderingneverlost!  
> This little oneshot is write for the Jonerys Appreciation Week- Reversal Role.

 

Daenerys paced the desolate streets of Pentos. The city that barely two moons ago stood glorious and resplendent was today only a smoking ruin. The coup d'etat of the Tattered Prince, the Westerosi troops' invasion, then the siege of the Dothraki had broken the city.

Following her like a shadow were three Unsullied that ensured her safety. It was thanks to her men that she had been able to escape the claws of the Tyrant of Pentos at the beginning of this sad affair. For that, the few Unsullied who had survived the fight had been offered their freedom by Daenerys, it had been very easy, as most of their owners had not survived the Prince's purge. For a reason that eluded her, a handful of resistance fighters in the city had made Daenerys their leader, most of them former slaves, or servants, how they called them in Pentos.

Daenerys had held on well, with the invaluable help of Missandei, Grey Worm, and others who supported her, as war and cruelty gradually tightened their grip on the city.

After walking for what seemed like hours, Daenerys passed through a steel gate marked with the emblem of the Westeros Royal Trading Company. The enclave had been flooded when the old lock was destroyed before the arrival of the Dothraki to block with sea water the southern city gate.

Immersed in more than a meter of water, the streets were impassable. Small paths, consisting of wooden boards and rocks had been installed to allow people to join the few buildings in the area that the black floods had spared.

_ Jon and his men held their quarters more successfully than anyone else, and that's how you thanked them _ , thought Daenerys bitterly.

To say that Daenerys had been surprised to discover that a young man of just eighteen had been appointed by the remains of his regiment had been a surprise. Jon's regiment, which had been the vanguard of the expeditionary force, had suffered the full tenacity of the Tyrant's defenders. With a force of a thousand men, the first battles had amputated the regiment of its half. His colonels, as well as the three officers that formed his staff, had died, so it was Jon, back then a simple Lieutenant, who had had to take the command. To the surprise of all, it was a success.

Daenerys opened the door and ordered her bodyguards to wait for her in the hollow mayhem. Taking care not to disturb the sleep of the soldiers, Daenerys quietly slipped into the dark halls of the barracks. Her footsteps were masked by the buzz of the Wildfire-fueled generator, while she slowly got closer to her destination. As she approached, the roar diminished, while a sweet melody became more audible at every step.

Coming to a steel door with a rusty paint, Daenerys paused, hesitant. She wasn't usually shy on the subject, but this time it was different: what if Jon Snow did not feel the same desire? Would she have misread the signs, extremely discreet it must be said, that he had sent her?

It was strange, the few lovers she had had always taken the first steps. Never herself. Arrogant, boastful and selfish in their pleasures, such were the words she would use to describe the three men with whom she had shared her bed. Jon... Jon was not like the first two, she knew for a fact. As for the last one... she hoped to discover it tonight.

Daenerys surveyed her outfit one last time. Far from the luxurious tailored suits of King's Landing, her clothes allowed her to go unnoticed, the people she met could easily confuse her for a simple city dweller. Her so distinctive silver hair had been dyed a rich brown. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the steel door. She had to wait a few moments before it opened, revealing Jon Snow with an unkempt outfit and dishevelled appearance. He was dressed simply in a half-buttoned cream shirt that did nothing to hide his chiselled chest.

The Northerner's eyes widened in surprise. Daenerys took advantage of the shock to push his lover-to-be inside the small room. Her left hand pushed on his chest while the other locked the door. Jon gasped before looking at her with a hungry wolf's gaze that excited her.

The young man had his hair loose, still wet from his shower, his face framed by dark brown curls that made her want to run her hand through it. He had just shaved, which did not displease her. Daenerys took a step towards Jon, as he swallowed and then responded by taking a further step in her arms, his hands going to rest on her hips. Daenerys snaked her hands around his shoulders, gently guiding his lover to the camp bed.

Jon offered no resistance, anthracite eyes never leaving hers. With a victorious smile, Daenerys guided Jon to sit down as she straddled onto his lap. She let one of her arms around his shoulder, while the other stroked his cheek, the faint scar of an old injury. Jon's hands did not remain idle, grazing her hips, they migrated to her buttocks, squeezing firmly but gently as a soft sound of pleasure escaped her throat.

Jon closed his eyes for a moment under the caresses of the princess. He suddenly opened them again.

“Princess-”

Whatever the young officer had meant to say, it was forgotten when Daenerys' lips took hold of his own.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't Hesite to comment, all critic are welcome =)


End file.
